Reversed Saints
by Effie Ven
Summary: What if Michael had been the 'saint' instead of Max and had saved someone? I'm rewriting this, so I'll just replace each chapter as I go along.
1. chapter 1

Disclaimer 'n stuff : yeah, so, I don't know why, but.. I ended up trying to rewrite this story. I wrote a bit more than this first part, but I'm not posting it all yet. I don't know if I'll continue cuz.. well, I mean look at it! Anyways. for the disclaimer part. if I owned Roswell, would I be writing this shit? Didn't think so. ; D  
  
Effie  
  
Part 1  
  
Michael Guerin sighed and twisted the key inserted in the ignition toward him, efficiently turning the machine off. Dully, he stared through the windshield at the dimly lit gas station a few yards from where he sat. This wasn't where he wanted to be.  
  
He was tired. And it was late. And he was still a good hour from his warm apartment. But this was only the fourth time he had ventured out on one of his searching treks across the desert and neighboring cities in the exasperating state that he resided in labeled New Mexico. He knew that however much it tired him, though, he would never stop looking for her. The screams that echoed in the dark caverns of his nightmares were growing alarmingly worse, the cries for help that haunted his memory renewed his awareness that she was depending on him to find her. He couldn't let her down.  
  
Michael's eyes began to close, not from his desire to sleep, but in an attempt to ward off the wail he could sense was approaching his mind. They were linked. Inside he knew it was a futile attempt. It never worked. He would still feel it in his head, no matter how hard he tried to reject the overwhelming rush of panic.  
  
Reaching out blindly, his hand connected with and roughly gripped the door handle. He opened his eyes as he pushed himself out from within the vehicle. He couldn't keep a grimace from dashing across his features from the stiffness that impeded his legs while he ambled across the abused parking lot to the building, characteristically shoving his hands in his jean pockets and revealing his hands again only when he reached the glass double doors. Michael outstretched a hand toward the handle and suddenly froze. A whimper. It spiraled through his body and he felt the impression that it was racing through the breeze to him; that it wasn't just a voice echoing in his head. It sounded so... real.  
  
But that was impossible. He only heard them in his mind. Never outside.  
  
He once again turned toward the doors. This time he managed to decrease the distance between his body and the door waiting patiently before him by an entire two inches when the next agonized cry assaulted his ears and was hastily chased by a metallic thud.  
  
He had been about to write it off as another plea resounding through the recesses of his mind until the metallic thud. That was real. It wasn't something he normally heard from her.  
  
Releasing the silky door handle, Michael impulsively snaked his way through the dark along the side of the building. Curiosity charged the adrenaline his body craved and demanded as the air took on two attributes: one, it was thickening with an ominous warning of danger. Secondly, the smells permeating from the dumpster in the back lot were atrocious and he fought the urge to sneeze. Alerting his presence by sneezing would not be a good.  
  
Instead, he announced it by tripping into the scene; a far more graceful route. The alley leading to the back lot was pitch black, so when he had reached the dumpster, he was completely unaware of the unconscious body sprawled against it. When he had been attempting to creep through the darkness using the monstrous garbage container as a guide, one palm against its surface to keep him from falling, his hand slipped away when it involuntarily discovered the dent caused by the weight of the body being thrown against it earlier. He stumbled when his hand lost contact and he began to sink forward into the abyss. only to trip over the body of a teenage boy.  
  
The memory of hearing a metallic thud ripped through his mind as his sense of balance valiantly came to the rescue. He ducked back into the shadows to survey the mayhem being concocted and determine where the sobs of distress had been emitted from.  
  
Not taking the unconscious body two feet away from him into account, there were only two other people. One was a male who appeared about 20 years old and the other, a young woman who was probably no older than Michael himself. The man, with a dusky brown mop of hair, towered over the injured girl. Michael's clumsy entrance had startled them enough that the messy haired boy was peering at his surroundings suspiciously. It gave the girl time to maneuver into a better stance and raise her arm expectantly, which also provided the light from the one weak yellow lamp to spread over her visage and illuminate the various lacerations. When the man rotated back into position to face her and resume his abuse, her eager fist solidly slammed into his nose. He jerked back, hands automatically snapping up to cover the smarting and gushing appendage.  
  
His city accent flared to life as he squawked in obvious outrage, "You bitch!" One hand lashed out, fast as a whip, to grab a hold of her arm. He harshly yanked her closer and Michael hissed a gasp of sympathy when he saw that not only did she have cuts on her beautiful face, but lumpy bruises of various shades and sizes littered her skin, accompanied by a suspicious blotch of crimson that had run rampant over her blue sweater.  
  
Michael took a deep breath, praying to a God he wasn't sure existed, and crept forward until he could reach the man's head. He planted his palm against the back of his scalp before he could react and made the connection all in the same steady breath. He could feel the man's heart contracting, sending waves of pulsating blood to his vital organs. He was incredibly tempted to just reach out with his mind and crush the pumping muscle into mush but murder was something he couldn't dare become involved in. He was already in for it as it was. He was revealing himself. Revealing his secret.  
  
So he latched onto the man's spinal cord and followed it up into the soft gray matter of his brain. He sought out a plump nerve and imagined pinching it firmly. He pulled away from the collapsing human in time to find himself staring into green eyes. They were wide and frightened, the soft flesh surrounding them trembling with weakness. The fragile young woman wasn't screaming or running away from him, just staring up in dazed wonder. They stood mutely, accepting each other and the night's somersaulting events in stunned silence. As he watched her carefully, he suddenly realized that fatigue was slipping over her fluidly.  
  
Gravity was pulling on her hard and though her brain was screaming to fight it and say something to the stranger who had defeated Ray, her body was already giving in to the fall. The chaos done to her body was overpowering her, rocking against her senses in a pounding, assaulting rhythm. In the end, her body won over her intellect and she sank into the numb, indifferent world of unconsciousness. 


	2. chapter 2

Padding around his small kitchen as quietly as possible, Michael retrieved a second mug and plate from the cabinet and soundlessly slid them onto the counter. Although the room was silent, his mind was not. Inside, there was the equivalent of a maelstrom, one thought spinning into the next. Mostly, it was worry. Worry about how Max and Isabel were going to react to what he'd done, how the mysterious girl on his couch was going to react to what he'd done, why he'd behaved the way he had about a complete stranger. And then came the confusion he had about why he felt the way he did when he looked at her.  
  
Was it just commiseration because he knew how it felt to have those bruises, welts, cuts, and lacerations? Was that why he felt rage build up in him, the air seem to tighten with heat, when he thought of who'd given them to her? Was that why he wondered if he should've done more than just knock the boy --what was his name? Ray?-- unconscious?  
  
Unintentionally, Michael looked back over his shoulder intent on glancing at the girl, expecting to see the now-familiar distraught look she carried with her even in sleep. Instead, he found himself staring into her blue eyes.  
  
It was clear she'd been watching him for a while and for a long moment all they did was stare. Michael in shock and her with an assessing look. She frowned slightly when she didn't find the answers she'd been seeking for on his face and her eyes shifted to the plates of food adorning the surface of the counter.  
  
" You usually make that much food for yourself? " Her voice was warm and mature, not high pitched like most teenage girls. There was a hint of the accent Ray had last night but the way she spoke proved the recognition of a higher education.  
  
" What--I.. Oh! No. I thought you might be hungry.. " Smooth, your moron. Now she'll think you're a stalker or something. Add humiliation on top of practically kidnapping someone..  
  
She smiled slightly. " I was just teasing. " She sat up slowly, trying to stifle a small groan as she did so. Running her fingers over where she had been marred, she murmured, " Odd.. I thought I was hurt more than this. "  
  
Michael restrained the features of guilt from leaping to his face, keeping a calm expression. " Most were pretty shallow. You've been asleep for two days, actually. Most of it healed already. " He whirled around quickly, making it look like he was tending to the food before him and just barely catching her 'Oh' when she accepted his explanation.  
  
She stood, testing the strength of her legs and when she was finally assured she wouldn't fall, she stretched, reveling in the glorious release it gave her rigid and immalleable body. " Can I use your bathroom? "  
  
He waved a fork to the left, pointing out the location of the door leading to it. She followed the path the fork vaguely made for her and disappeared into the small room.  
  
Wrinkling her nose at the display of dirt and scum clinging to crevices in the wall, she inspected her reflection in the mirror. Sighing, she wished she had makeup with her but she was without everything. Even extra clothes. Everything she owned she carried in a small black backpack. But Tommy, Ray's friend, had spitefully knocked it out of her hands on the bridge and it had fallen into the water. That was before they'd dragged her to New Mexico.  
  
Her mind made up to repair what she could of her appearance, she shook her strawberry blonde hair free of the ponytail holder, rolled that into place on her wrist, and proceeded to fingercomb through her hair. Then she wiped at her eyes, rubbing away some of the blurriness and the 'sand' she used to be told was the Sandman's gift to sleeping children when she was little.  
  
She stopped momentarily to listen to the clanking sounds made by Michael in the kitchen, just a few yards away. This was only the second time she'd seen him, but she didn't think she'd ever forget his face or voice. Or the way he'd stammered and blushed from her teasing earlier.  
  
Frowning, a memory from the last time she'd seen him.. that night when Ray had flipped out on her again.. tugged at the corner of her mind. She stilled, concentrating on seizing it.  
  
Her stomach. Ray's knife had pierced her stomach before she'd torn it out from her body and thrown it on the pavement. Then Ray had violently tossed her back and she'd crashed into the car. The images sped by her eyes, one replacing the other so rapidly it was making her dizzy. Snapping out of it with a gasp, her gaze fell to her abdomen.  
  
There was no way *that* could have healed while she was asleep. It didn't hurt at all and there wasn't even a bloodstain. ..What the--  
  
Her scream resounded off the tiled walls when she lifted up the hem of her shirt and unveiled the silver hand print imbedded in her skin. 


	3. chapter 3

The plate Michael had been about to scoop the bacon onto plummeted, fragmenting into chunks of ceramic as he raced toward her voice. The door banged against the wall behind it ferociously, his heart beating in a blur so fast he couldn't feel the distinct beats anymore. " What happened? " he demanded.  
  
The girl was paler than usual, her shirt pushed up around where her ribs ended, and her hands were splayed against the skin of her stomach. When she looked at him, her eyes were wide and round. " What did you do to me? "  
  
Michael visibly swallowed. She knew. " I healed you. "  
  
" Healed me. " She repeated his words with difficulty, no emotion in her dulled voice. " How could you heal me? "  
  
Struggling to tell her the truth, Michael closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them to focus on her stomach, glimpses of his light blue mark peeking out from her fingers. " I'm an alien. "  
  
She began backing away from him with small measured steps, the way you approach a frightened animal, only backwards. " Yeah. Right. And I'm Mickey Mou-- " Her words were abruptly cut off as the bare skin of the back of her legs met with the cold shell of the bathtub. Balance was lost and the sense of wrongess, of a lack of control, overwhelmed her as the air rushed by her ears.  
  
And then it stopped.  
  
A pair of hands darted out, gripping her tightly on her shoulders and firmly pulling her back. With Michael's touch came a flood, assaulting her senses. They exchanged histories. The images, emotions, smells, thoughts, sounds overtook them for long minutes and when it ended she collapsed against his chest, saturating Michael's worn gray shirt with salty tears. The pair said nothing, attempting to digest the lives they'd watched fly by.  
  
Author's Note ~ I didn't want to this part the conventional way with the hyperventilating and freaking out like in the show and books, so this is kinda bland, sorry. I know the parts I'm writing are small and kind of confusing, but bear with me. I'm also trying to write new parts within a few days each. Also, I didn't want to write up 30-something flashes that they share, so I'm just going to show within their conversations and thoughts the new information they got. Like names, past events, etc. Sometimes I'll make references to them though. Anyways.. enjoy, and thank you for the positive feedback! I didn't expect to get any so soon, so thank you very, very much! 


	4. chapter 4

" Wait. That's called emancipation, right? "  
  
Michael nodded and tossed the crumpled napkin that contained the rest of the broken dish into the garbage can. He snapped the oven dial to 'Off' and grabbed a pair of forks. " It's ready now, Maria. "  
  
Maria DeLuca picked up her fork and pinned a piece of pancake. It was kind of odd to be around someone who suddenly knew random things about you, reflected Maria. But still, she wouldn't trade the experience for anything. She wasn't ashamed of her life. There was nothing she really had problems with Michael knowing. There were embarrassing events, true, but chances were he hadn't picked up on all of them. And although he had seen into her, she had gotten to see into him as well.  
  
It had been like watching a movie in a few minutes. But it still left her intrigued. She didn't know his entire past and she didn't know the future, but she wanted to. " Anything fun to do in Roswell? "  
  
He drained his juice before answering, " The entire town thrives on the alien theme because of the 1947 crash. "  
  
" Oh.. Does that ever bother you? "  
  
" Sometimes. Most of the time I forget, though. " Yeah. You forget because most days you're too worn out from school and work to even think, Guerin. He guestured at her plate and at her nod, he placed it along with his in the sink to wash later. " Why'd you ask about fun things to do? "  
  
" Wanted to know how to pass the time. "  
  
Michael froze. He hadn't thought about her staying or leaving for a good hour now. Who knew how Max and Isabel were going to handle-- Max and Isabel. He was supposed to meet them for lunch. Dammit. He glanced at her. He couldn't leave her unprotected, and it wouldn't be wise to just show up with her either. " Maria.. "  
  
She immediately looked up. Maria had fallen silent while he was lost in thought and now halted in massaging her right palm. " What? "  
  
" I'm not the only.. real alien in Roswell. "  
  
" I know. " She bit her lip, suddenly looking frightened and worried. " This is a major secret. I get that. But they don't know I get it, do they? I mean, they're thinkin' I could go blabbing to someone and endanger the three of you. " She met his eyes directly. " I wouldn't, Michael. I need you to know that. My whole life, I've had a rough time. I'm not pitying myself, I'm just telling it how it is. No one ever did what you did. Protected me like that. "  
  
She took a deep breath and continued. " I owe you a lot. I know I'd be dead if not for you. He'd stabbed me.. he was going to do worse.. " Her words broke off, her eyes and hand landing on her stomach, where his hand print still lay, albeit now hidden. After a moment, her eyes returned to his, bright with unshed tears that she refused to free. " I promise you. I won't ever tell anybody. They might just be words to you, but I swear I mean it. "  
  
He nodded, believing her. " Now we just need to convince Max and Isabel of that, " he replied, his mind made up to bring her.  
  
" When? "  
  
" In a few hours. You should rest again. I'll wake you up in time. " 


	5. chapter 5

" Max, this is not okay. How can you be so calm about this? " Isabel Evans swept her hair into a tight ponytail.  
  
" Well, I'd be freaking out, but you have that part covered. " Her brother, Max, said as his eyes ran over the laminated Crashdown Cafe menu.  
  
" Max! This is serious! Michael really screwed up this time. How could he bring that much attention to himself and tell this girl the truth? "  
  
" Isabel-- "  
  
" She'll ruin us. She'll tell someone and we'll end up on a dissection table. "  
  
" Isabel, keep your voice down. We won't let that happen. There's still time to fix this, okay? He'll be here in a few minutes and we'll have a rational discussion. " Max folded his menu and dropped it onto the polished surface of the table.  
  
Maria looked over at Michael, fiddling with the colorful, homemade bracelets on her wrist. " ..Are we going to go in yet or are we going to sit here for another couple of minutes? "  
  
He tersely yanked on the keys and shoved them into his pocket. " Going in. "  
  
She sighed, opened the passenger side door and closed it after her, walking up to the sidewalk. Realizing she hadn't heard any similar sounds, she spun around on her heel, checked, gave a satisfactory I-Thought-So nod, and strode over to his door. Opening it for him, she stooped with her hands on her knees so she could speak to him without anyone else overhearing. " It won't be that bad. Come on. "  
  
He muttered, " You don't know that, " and got out, closing his door.  
  
" Yes, I do. Now lead the way, Mr. Guerin. "  
  
Without another word, he entered the restaurant. Isabel spotted him within a second and began to stand up to lead him to their table.. until she caught sight of Maria behind him. Her look of frustration frosted over and morphed into anger. She finished standing and glared full-on at the shorter girl.  
  
Denying all the words she'd spoken only seconds earlier, Maria felt a tremor of fear run down her spine and whispered Michael's name instinctively. He must have heard her because he stopped and turned back to her. " They won't hurt you, Maria. There's no way I would let them. They're just scared. " His hand reached for hers and he resumed his trek to the table, a silent and trailing Maria a step behind him, linked by their hands.  
  
" Is that her? " Isabel's voice was cold enough to make Maria wish she'd gotten a jacket when they'd stopped to buy some public-worthy clothes for her to wear. Her only other available clothes had been bloody and torn from the other night.  
  
" Yes. " Michael motioned for Maria to sit and sat next to her, relinquishing her hand at Max's pointed look.  
  
Maria's jaw clenched. She hadn't missed that. These were his *friends*? She might have been able to assume they only talked to one another because they were exclusive aliens if not for Michael's feelings of love that came with the images she'd seen of them. Under the table, she firmly seized his hand and tucked her small one into his. The aliens might be scared of what she could do and mad at him for saving her, but that didn't excuse practically bullying him. His entire mood had changed since they'd reached the parking lot. He was reclusive, barely saying anything.  
  
Michael felt an inner smile begin to develop. Trust Maria to not give up.  
  
Isabel shot Michael a look of disgust. " Did you have to bring her? Things were already bad enough. "  
  
Maria tensed and her hand squeezed his. He looked at Max, who had remained silent the whole time. " Got anything to add, Maxwell? "  
  
Max didn't answer, he was too busy looking at Maria. A stream of worry wound its way through Michael's veins. Was Max trying to figure out how to get to her or was he hitting on her? Don't even go there, he told himself.  
  
Isabel broke his thoughts, snapping, " He doesn't have to add anything. I can tell you what an incredible mistake you made all by myself. "  
  
Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Maria got there first. She leaned over the table, closer to the other blonde and spoke, her sweet voice hushed and tight with anger. " Mistake? This is my life we're talking about. My *existance*. I could be dead, rotting in a dumpster right now if he hadn't rescued me. He made no mistake. "  
  
Isabel looked back at her cooly, her eyes penetrating and hard. " Do you think your life is more important than the three of ours? Because that's what it's coming down to. Unfortunately, what's done is done. But I can assure you that if you breathe a word of this to anybody, I'll kill you myself. No matter where you are. "  
  
" Don't threaten her, Isabel. "  
  
" Don't threaten her, Michael? How can you even say that to me? This girl will let something slip and they'll come for us. We could die because of what you've done! Max can't pick up your mess this time, Michael! You did it and now the consequences affect all of us. "  
  
The chair jerked dangerously as Michael bolted upright, suddenly standing and glaring down at the brother and sister across from him. " Stop it. She is not 'this girl'. She has a name. Her name is Maria. And she isn't going to tell anyone. "  
  
They were already walking away when Isabel finally shouted, " When did you become so stupid to just trust what a stranger tells you? "  
  
A half an hour later, Michael and Maria were in his car, both frustrated.  
  
" I'm not going. " She slouched in her seat, arms crossed stubbornly.  
  
Michael gave an exasperated sigh. " Yes, you are. Look, you'll be safe there. You can start fresh. No one will know you. "  
  
" So? "  
  
" So, Isabel won't hurt you. Ray won't find you. You'll be fine. Please, Maria. "  
  
" No way. Michael, I'm a part of this. I don't want to leave, " came her obstinate argument.  
  
" Too bad. It's too dangerous here, Maria. You'd be in constant jeopardy. " Michael ran a hand through his spiky brown hair, upset that he couldn't persuade her to do something for her own good.  
  
" I don't care, " Maria mumbled sullenly, watching the world go on outside the car window through her tinted sunglasses.  
  
" I do! Now, *please*. Go. "  
  
He only let his head drop back against the cushion of the driver's seat, eyes closed, with relief once he saw her silently climb out of his car, head toward the train station, and disappear inside.  
  
In another car, only four blocks away, Isabel Evans glared at her brother intensely. " Why didn't you back me up in there? You were like a freaking mute. It was weird. "  
  
" Maria. I was trying to place her. "  
  
" What? "  
  
Max parked the jeep in the driveway of their home, but didn't get out. " I could have sworn I saw her somewhere before. I just can't remember where. "  
  
The girl in question weaved through the crowds of milling people, who were greeting and bidding farewell to loved ones, at the train station. She eventually was able to unboard and took her only luggage, her new purse, which only had a few things in it --some makeup and some money Michael had given her in case of an emergency-- with her. Crossing streets by memory, she reached her destination within twenty minutes. She nearly flew up the flight of stairs and tested the doorknob of one of the doors, finding it locked.  
  
With a sigh, Maria crouched before it, removing a hairpin that had been securing her hair in a bun against the back of her head. She could feel a few tendrils escape, but ignored it, inserting the pin and expertly twisting, causing the tumblers to fall into place and unlock the door.  
  
She dropped the pin into her purse and dumped that on the floor after closing the door behind her and locking it again from the inside. She crept around to the bed and collapsed into it, falling into slumber the moment she was comfortable. 


	6. chapter 6

Michael stared at the squiggly line that now marked the door and tried again to insert the key into the lock. He groaned when he missed for the second time and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was nearly midnight. Michael had been wandering around for hours, feeling odd about sending Maria away. Although he knew it was for her own good, he felt like maybe he shouldn't have done it. She'd only been around him for a couple of days, but already he missed her quirkiness. There was no real way to describe it. So finally, he had headed home.  
  
The thought of finally sleeping in his soft, warm bed made him groan with frustration. He slammed the key forward, nearly breaking it, but somehow managing to slide it into its groove. He unlocked the door and stumbled into his bedroom, losing bits and pieces of clothes on the way. A shoe here, a shoe over there by the chair, jeans carelessly left in a denim heap on the floor.  
  
He crawled into his bed and sank into the mattress with a sigh.  
  
And then he noticed her.  
  
With bleary eyes, he peered at Maria, leaning close to hear her shallow breathing. No, Michael.. Don't be stupid. She's on the train right now. You saw her get on it. See what exhaustion does to you? You're just hallucinating or something, he convinced himself before turning on his side and closing his blood shot eyes.  
  
~-~ ~-~ ~-~ ~-~ ~-~  
  
No, no, no, she thought. Please.. just five more minutes of sleep! But the perturbed shout came again, and Maria knew she'd have to obey and wake up. After a few blinks, she registered that she was in Michael's bed and beside her.. yep, there was Michael. She studied him, registering in less than a second his clenched jaw and balled fists with white knuckles. Gee, he looked angry.. Oops?  
  
Maria propped herself up on her elbows with a sigh and met his stormy eyes. " I'm sorry, okay? "  
  
" What? "  
  
" I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got off the train and came back here and broke in and fell asleep. "  
  
He jumped off the bed and began restlessly pacing the room in front of the bed like an agitated, caged animal. He completed a few laps before he began speaking, still carrying on his frantic pacing. " I don't get you. I try to get you out of this mess and you just come back. "  
  
Maria sat up completely, hugging her knees. " It's impossible to get me out of this, Michael. Unless you can turn back time. But then I'd just be dead, so.. "  
  
" It's dangerous here. Being an alien doesn't mean just having to hide what you are. There are.. other beings that want us dead. You could end up getting mistaken for an alien and killed or.. or just getting caught in the crossfire. "  
  
" It's my choice, Michael. You saved my life. I've.. denied death. I have a whole second shot at living--"  
  
" Which is why you should spend it safely. "  
  
She continued on, pretending she hadn't even noticed his interjection. " I want to live out the remainder of my life the way I want to. It's *my life*. And I want to be here, regardless of what could happen. Because, frankly, whatever happens happens. In Chicago, I could get hurt and die anyway from Ray or whatever else. Who knows. One day I could be going out to mail something and I'll get hit by a car. Or I'll be driving and I'll swerve into oncoming traffic to avoid hitting a poodle. "  
  
" Maria-- "  
  
" Yeah, I oughta just hit the damn poodle. I mean, it's a fluffy little poodle, right? But then that's the equivalent of hurting an innocent little bunny and that's just sick-- "  
  
" Maria! " The shout ceased her babbling, her mouth slamming shut with a snap. She looked at him apologetically.  
  
He came over and stood in front of her. " Are you sure that this is what you want? Roswell? "  
  
She nodded and Michael sighed, running his hand through his spiky brown hair, clumps of it sticking out askew. " Then hurry up and get dressed. "  
  
" What for? "  
  
" You'll see when we get there. " 


	7. chapter 7

" This wasn't what I had in mind. "  
  
" Maria, he won't hurt you. "  
  
She stared up at the building, smoothing out the tense knots in the back of her neck with her hand. " I don't know about this.. "  
  
" If you don't do this, you don't stay here. "  
  
She groaned and entered the building, looking around with uncertainty. Michael followed and strode up to the front desk, requesting to speak to Sheriff Valenti. She wandered down the hall after him to the Sheriff's office and was directed by the deputy to sit in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Maria did as she was asked and looked at Michael, frightened when he didn't sit down next to her.  
  
After giving her a hasty but still reassuring smile, he turned to greet the middle-aged man who entered the room. " Valenti. "  
  
The Sheriff nodded at the deputy and closed the door before turning completely to the two teenagers. " Michael. What can I do for you? " He strolled over to his cluttered desk, dropping his faded, worn hat among the scattered papers. He glanced up at Michael before his eyes darted onto Maria, who was oddly silent. He looked back up at Michael, leaning back in his swivel chair, steadily waiting for him to speak.  
  
" This is Maria. She was.. hurt and I found her. "  
  
Valenti's eyes narrowed. " Did you do anything to her? "  
  
Maria frowned. Was this cop guy implying that Michael did something bad to her? Hardly. He'd saved her..  
  
" Yes. "  
  
Maria's head snapped up to look at Michael. What? What was that? Did he say 'yes'..?  
  
" What did you do? " Valenti had picked up his hat and was traveling the rim with his fingers, the article of clothing slowly rotating in his hands.  
  
Maria kept her eyes trained on Michael, noting when his revealing and cloudy gray eyes took on a brief but pained expression, before hardening and focusing on Valenti once more. " She had three broken ribs, a twisted ankle, her left wrist was fractured in three places, she had a serious concussion and she had sustained various cuts and bruises, some caused by pieces of glass that were imbedded in her skin. "  
  
She stared at him as he indifferently rattled off her injuries with precision, shivering slightly from the visual of everything he'd mentioned. He'd fixed all that? For some girl he didn't even know? Blinking back the tears that welled up, she ordered herself to get a grip. It wouldn't do to burst into tears right here, right now.  
  
Sheriff Valenti's austere and gravel voice broke in. " I see, " he said, " So you've healed her and you need my help because.. ? "  
  
Maria blinked, stunned. This guy knew about them too? Huh. Go figure.  
  
" Legally, she's still a minor. There's no family, no relatives, for her to go to. Not even old family friends. If she's traceable, the people who hurt her in the first place will just find her again. And with her knowing the truth about me and Max and Isabel.. it's not safe. "  
  
" You realize I could lose my job for this? " Valenti gave a sigh and leaned forward on his desk. Clearly his question had been rhetorical because he stood up, pinning Maria with a stern look. " Last name? "  
  
Since that was the first time he'd spoken to her, it took her a moment to process his question. " DeLuca. "  
  
Maria watched as he gave a nod and crossed the room, opening the door and shouting, " Harry! I need you to dig up everything you can on a girl named Maria DeLuca. She'd be about sixteen by now, maybe seventeen. " He stepped back from the doorway, facing them again. " I'll take care of the papers. "  
  
Michael muttered a quick thank you, taking that as their cue to leave. He waited for Maria to stand up and they exited the police station together, leaving Valenti to live up to his word.  
  
" So, um.. how does he know? " Curiosity finally getting the better of her, Maria voiced her question.  
  
" Couple of months ago an agent was trying to use him to find us out. Valenti didn't know what we were back then, but he suspected. His father had been into investigating aliens, the crash, everything. So naturally, Valenti knew all of his dad's stories. He thought they were ridiculous until he started noticing the strange occurrences that always included me and Isabel and Max. He put two and two together and helped us trick the agent. I don't know why but he decided we weren't the horrible, murdering beings everyone else perceived us to be. "  
  
" That's because you're not. He's smart. "  
  
Michael shrugged and revved the engine. " You ready? "  
  
" Yeah. " Maria closed her car door firmly.  
  
He had just begun to pull out of the small parking lot when she spoke again. " Michael? "  
  
" What? "  
  
" Can we go to the grocery store? "  
  
" ..Why? There's food in my apartment. "  
  
" You have no ice cream. Believe me, you need ice cream. If I'm gonna live with you, you *must* have ice cream in stock. "  
  
He gave her an annoyed look. " And who said you're going to live with me? "  
  
" Me, " she said with a grin.  
  
Michael muttered something unintelligible under his breath.  
  
" What was that? "  
  
He sighed and stared ahead, clearly distressed. " What kind of ice cream? "  
  
Maria looked at the miserable look on his face and bit her lip. When that didn't work, she looked in the opposite direction, out her window, and covered her mouth with her hand. Against all her efforts, her laugh still surfaced.  
  
When he answered with a mumbled " Girls, " she cracked up. 


End file.
